The Sarpeidon Chronicles Part 6
Fan fiction only. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter 8
From the moment she arrived at the Embassy, Zarabeth could tell that the final phase of Spock's evidentiary hearing would be different from the previous sessions. For the first time, she and Lidia, along with a dozen or so other spectators who had gathered in the corridor, were ushered to seats inside the courtroom.
"No doubt the final disposition of the case is considered a matter of public interest," Lidia theorized, but Zarabeth could tell that she had been taken off guard as well. From across the aisle, a few people she recognized as members of Spock's staff looked at her but said nothing. Had they heard the details of the testimony she had given the last time she had been in this room? They probably considered her far worse a traitor than he had ever been. And Spock had forbidden her to defend herself to anyone besides her own children.
After the various spectators had been seated, they waited for what seemed like hours. Finally T'Rhan arrived, her expression tight and unreadable, followed by the arbiter and his small entourage of clerks and bailiffs. Neither the prosecutor nor the defendant appeared, even though court was about to commence.
"Something has happened to him," Zarabeth said.
"Nonsense. T'Rhan would have informed us," Lidia replied, though she sounded far from confident.
"We must trust her."
"That is one thing I'm afraid I could never do."
A low murmur spread through the room as the rest of those assembled became restless. Silence fell again, though, when a middle-aged Terran male entered and stepped behind the prosecution table. He remained there, standing alone, as the proceedings got underway.
The arbiter addressed his first question to the newcomer. "Counselor, I understand that you wish to speak on behalf of the Federation?"
"I do. Arbiter, recent developments have led our investigation down a somewhat unexpected path. A full report is pending, but in the meantime the Federation Security Council has authorized me to withdraw all charges against Ambassador Spock."
The arbiter ignored the gasps that rippled around the courtroom. Instead, he turned his attention to T'Rhan.
"I trust your client has been notified of this development?"
T'Rhan stood as well. "He has, Arbiter. He has also requested that I relay his apologies to the court for his absence. However, at the moment, he is assisting security officials in matters which cannot yet be made public."
"In that case, this court wishes him every success in bringing this unfortunate matter to an end. Be it duly recorded that all charges against Ambassador Spock are dismissed. This case will not be bound over for trial."
Zarabeth had burst into tears of relief even before the arbiter's gavel rapped the bench. As they rose along with everyone else in the room, she and Lidia tearfully embraced.
"I will go and send Adonia a communication from the school," Lidia said. "It will reach her ship much faster that way."
She had just turned to go when two members of Embassy Security came forward. "The Ambassador wishes us to escort you home. You may wait for him there and he will join you as soon as he is able."
"Yes, of course." Zarabeth looked around as the guards stood aside and waited for her to accompany them. "Lidia, be sure to tell your sister—"
But no one was there to hear her. Lidia had slipped away.
"So far, our sensors have failed to detect either Therov or Selyk," Adonia informed her security team, keeping one eye on her tricorder as she addressed them. "It is possible that they have found a way to block our scans. We shall continue the search using more traditional methods. Keep communicators ready and maintain visual contact with the nearest team member at all times."
"In my opinion, they'll turn up nearby," one of the officers said. "As ill as Selyk is, he can't have traveled far."
"That depends on the extent of the assistance he received." Adonia motioned for them to fan out in the woods that stretched behind the colony's structures, vacant since the last colonists had beamed aboard the Wellfleet an hour earlier. Since then, repeated shipboard sweeps of the planet had turned up no life signs aside from their own. "Proceed."
Though she tried to project an air of confidence as she moved into the covert, Adonia privately found herself more than a little unnerved by her surroundings. Aside from a few training modules at Starfleet Academy, and a few virtual reality games she had played as a child, never before had she attempted to navigate so sylvan an environment.
She watched the various members of her team push their way into the forest until they were swallowed up, one by one, by the vast thicket around them, and experienced a twinge of self-doubt. Did her orders regarding visual contact pertain to her as well? Should she have ordered them to explore in pairs again? Her goal had been to cover as much ground as quickly as possible, but she was beginning to realize that even so limited a command role held challenges she had not anticipated. Perhaps such decisions had always come instinctively to her father. In her case, she feared they never would.
She walked on, alone, for what seemed like several kilometers, though the amount of effort it took to navigate the tangled deadfall made it difficult to be sure. Even the air grew cooler as a claustrophobic sensation settled over her. Looking up, she saw very little of the sky, the sunlight itself smothered by an explosion of bizarre vegetation that rose like a tent far over her head. Fat, ropy vines and branches studded with bulbous black nodules trailed down from rows of gargantuan trees whose trunks would have filled her quarters back on the Wellfleet. No doubt owing to the lack of direct light, everything bloomed in dreary shades of grey, black, and brown. Probably not even Jarrod and Leila, with their shared enthusiasm for exotic flora, had cared to venture this far. Unnerved, she tightened her grip on her phaser.
Soon enough, her sensitive hearing picked something up: no more than a whisper, like a quickly indrawn breath or the scratch of a boot heel on a rocky patch of ground. Instinctively she took cover behind the closest tree and surveyed the area with cautious eyes.
In truth, she had given little thought to what she would do if she actually discovered one—or both—of them. It had been many years since she had considered Therov anything more than a youthful folly, now safely locked away behind prison walls. Certainly she had never imagined that the two of them would share the same world again.
Though she knew her father would disapprove of such irrational behavior, Adonia felt her face warm with the shame she had repressed for nearly a decade. She had done her best to make up for her mistakes ever since—all to no avail, she realized now. Would taking Therov into custody finally banish that particular guilt-fueled demon?
Another noise registered—closer this time, and most assuredly that of a large sentient thrashing about rather clumsily in the brush. With no time to signal any of her officers and no desire to betray her own presence by speaking into her communicator, Adonia squared her shoulders and forged ahead.
Somewhat to her own surprise, Adonia pushed her way through a cluster of sticky creepers and found herself looking down at Selyk. He was lying on his side in a matted bed of fernlike specimens whose leaves were curled around his sleeves and pant legs in a most peculiar manner. His eyes seemed to burn with fever and rage as he twisted his head around and glared at her.
"Either put the phaser down or use it to end my agony at once," he snarled, wriggling his arms to show that the prickly leaves held him fast to the ground. "I'm no threat to you. Apparently toxic plants do not only take root in laboratories on this repulsive little orb. Then again, you might prefer to watch and gloat. What little life-force I have left should be gone in a matter of moments."
"Of course," she said. "Limited photosynthesis has led to the evolution of carnivorous plants here. Remain patient while I assist you."
Lowering her weapon, Adonia moved forward and knelt beside him. "Are the leaves toxic?"
"No—their function is to hold the prey in place. If I hadn't already been poisoned by your brother and his mistress, I could have fought my own way out. As it is, I can't even move my arms. Too weak."
"Very well. I will attempt to remove them from your limbs and then pull you to safety."
She bent forward, shifting her phaser to her left hand and used her right to grasp the first clump of tendrils. Prepared to feel the unpleasant scrape of nettles on her skin, she took a deep breath and peeled them away from his body.
When they lifted away as gently as the petals on a Terran garden flower, she realized her mistake. The expected blow came from just above her right shoulder and knocked her into the bracken beside Selyk, who easily rolled to one side and drew himself up into a crouch. He took her phaser with him.
Her first glimpse of Therov revealed a gaunt, scarred, and even somewhat haggard version of the youthful idealist she had known in another lifetime.
"We were hoping to take a hostage—we had no idea we'd be fortunate enough to get you." Holding a Romulan disruptor inches from her face, he reached down and snatched away her tricorder. He tossed it to Selyk, who immediately got to work on it. Adonia suspected he was recalibrating its settings to Romulan frequencies."It seems, my dear, that we are destined to find each other under any circumstances."
"Hardly. Starfleet, not fate, sent me here. My mission is to apprehend you and return you to the confinement you have earned."
He laughed and moved toward her, his free hand extended. Adonia backed up, and his expression turned sour. "So there is nothing left of the feeling you once had for me?"
She shook her head. "Such passions as I felt for you are only for the very young, Therov, or the very foolish. Once, I was both. Now I am neither."
"What a shame. A passionate woman like you has so much to offer a man, Adonia. I saw it even then, when you were scarcely more than a child."
"I was much more than a child. You saw me as you wished to so that you could take advantage of me."
"Admittedly, our fortunes do seem to have traveled in opposite directions. Yet, at the moment, mine are ascendant. And you know I am a man who likes to live in the moment."
"I fail to see how you can believe that. I am not the only one looking for you."
"Well, let them look. No doubt you have already determined that Selyk and I are using a modified cloaking device to mask our bioreadings. What you would have been unable to learn is how far its range extends. Rest assured, you became invisible to your lackeys some time ago. As of now, you are at my mercy."
Adonia's shoulders slumped. She had no doubt he was telling her the truth.
"You needn't worry that we're going to kill you," Selyk said, looking up from the tricorder. "I can't speak for the Romulans, of course, when we return to the Empire. That will happen soon."
"He's right," Therov said. "Selyk, you, and I are not the only things cloaked in this forest. Somewhere nearby is an escape vessel—nothing fancy, you understand, just enough to get us off the ground and out of orbit for a few hours."
"And there you will be met by other cloaked ships," she finished for him. "Romulan ships."
"If you defect, they may spare you. I suggest you start thinking it over. Now that we have the tricorder, we should be able to locate the pod. That's the trouble with cloaking—you can't see a thing in broad daylight. Is it ready, Selyk?"
Selyk gave the tricorder a few last adjustments and nodded. "I can read both of you now, so presumably the pod will register, too. We should start walking again." He hauled himself to his feet with obvious difficulty. "I think I can keep up."
"You'll have to," Therov snapped.